Illegitimi Non Carborundum
by Gaia caecilia
Summary: After the war Hermione is given a surprising offer, which she impulsively takes and blindly walking into her dream life from the most unexpected direction. Ignores epilogue, contains some light Ron Weasley bashing and light references to both abuse and suicide. Hermione/OC Harry/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Authors note:** Further entries from the 'gaiacaecilia is not dead yet' files. Yep still here and occasionally writing fanfictions, although most of my writing these days is in the form of original stories. This one was knocked out in the course of a few days last week when the plot attacked me mid read of another fanfic. Its a plot that could be developed far further but I decided to keep it shorter in the name of actually finishing it. Most of my HP fics are sitting languishing part done as they are far too large and complex, not to mention delve into correcting the huge range of societal problems in JK's universe hense never finishing them.

Content warning: Mentions of emotional abuse and suicide, although not too deeply. Also, if you don't like stories with mentions of non-conventional sexuality, this ain't for you. While the pairing are straight and cis there is mention of one character who is Pansexual/panromantic and yes that is possible to have a 'conventional relationship' while not being cis/straight. Spending a lot of time talking with the non-cis community made me realise that while there are a lot of homosexual pairings in fanfiction, I've never seen one single non-straight non-standard homosexual pairing and thought the universe could do with something a little more creative in that department that hopefully portrays the character fairly, realistically and in a good light.

Also this hasn't been beta'd so please forgive any mistakes my quick prepublishing read through missed.

Also, there is some bashing of Ron Weasley but its kept to comments on canon behaviour and personality, as well as how he behaves in the few months after the war which are based on how JK writes writes him in the books. The epilogue is completely ignored as I really hate how JK ends it, Hermione and Ron are a totally incompatible pair that should never be together for more than a short fling before she comes to her senses.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but an extensive knowledge of history and distilling of grain spirits.

**Illegitimi Non Carborundum**

Chapter 1

A haggard Lucius Malfoy stood before her as Hermione gaped at the man.

"What are you doing here?" She asked in shock. He blinked, apparently also shocked, although she wasn't sure why.

"I expected you to be in a warded location." She blinked at the non-sequitur. What did that have to do with anything? He seemed to spot her confusion. "I aimed to apparate to your location. If you had been in a warded location, as you know, I would have appeared on the edge of the ward and the ward magic would have informed you that someone had apparated onto the ward line." She nodded in surprise. Which begged a question.

"Why were you trying to come see me?" He gave a hollow, empty laugh.

"Because you are the reason I am not locked up in that hell hole." Obviously really. She and Harry had fought for the Malfoy family after the war in the lightning trials that had been organised in a rush. It had only had the veneer of proper legal process, but how were you going to find a way to give former deatheaters a free and fair trial? There certainly was no was to get an unpartisan jury.

Narcissa Malfoy, it had turned out that when she had lied to Voldemort, was already suffering a curse that would kill her a month after the war ended. It had been another little bit a cruelty on the part of Voldemort, tying her life force to his so that she wouldn't long outlive him. Apparently he'd suspected the family of wanting to turn traitor and thought it would guarantee their utter loyalty and dedication to him.

Only, only Narcissa knew about the curse, having refused to tell her menfolk because it was at that point she'd become utterly dedicated to destroying the Dark Lord, willingly sacrificing her life to destroy the being that had done that to her. Only the swiftness of his death had even given her the month she'd had as he'd not had time to draw on her life force to keep himself alive. She had used that time to call in Harry's life debt to her and the condition of him being freed was to fight for Draco and Lucius. Hermione had helped her friend because she felt it was the right thing to do. Ron, disgusted and refusing to listen, had dumped the pair of them to return to the burrow, ending her short relationship with him.

"What about Harry?" She asked the blond man.

"I have sent him a letter of thanks, but he did not help my son and I through the goodness of his heart, but through debt. You did. I felt it right to thank you in person." He blinked and looked around him. "Where in Merlin's name are we?"

She gave a sort of humourless sodden laugh that gave a hint of the fact that she'd been on the verge of tears when he had popped into existence.

"My parents house." She paused. "I'm not welcome at the Burrow any more, not after, well, helping you. Its somewhere to live I suppose." He looked surprised.

"What happened to them? I know they were searched for but they could not be found." Hermione gave a watery smile.

"I wiped their memories of me, and implanted memories then sent them to Australia to be safe from the death eaters. Which it worked for, but not a car crash. So they're gone and all this is mine but..." Lucius nodded sympathetically and held out a hand to her, leaving her blinking in shock.

"You can't stay here, not like this. Come with me." He said softly, although it was said with his old authority, as if it was incomprehensible that she would disobey. She went white and it clearly suddenly occurred to him what she must be thinking. "Not to the manor. I'm not that untactful. I was planning to go to the family home on Capri."

Hermione couldn't help raising an eyebrow at that location, and the blond grinned at her, clearly knowing what she was thinking.

"My cousin lives there, and its far away from the eyes of British Wizarding society." He saw her curious look at the word 'cousin' and decided to elaborate. "He is the son of my grandfather's illegitimate daughter by his mistress. When she got pregnant he sent her to live at the Villa the family owned there, safely away from my grandmother, and cared for."

That sounded much like Victorian high society, magical or not. Have a mistress, when she gets pregnant, send her somewhere far away to be looked after but not seen. It still did not answer why Lucius Malfoy was inviting her there. He seemed to have realised her thoughts.

"You look as if you need somewhere safe and away from Britain to recover from the war, as I do. My resources are more limited than they were but it is one place I can offer you for that purpose, as long as you do not mind my presence there doing the same thing." She nodded, still slightly confused as to his sudden generosity. "You saved both my and son out of the goodness of your heart. I owe you a debt I cannot hope to repay. The least I can do is take you somewhere you can recover. You'll also get on with Caesarion, he's at least doubled the family library." She grinned at him.

"Your cousin is called Caesarion?" He grinned at her clearly getting the reference. Somehow he suddenly looked a lot less haggard with that expression.

"Aunt Aphrodite had a strange sense of humour." Hermione had to laugh slightly at that.

"Your cousin in a scholar?" Lucius nodded.

"He is one of the world experts on the magical history behind classical mythology. Its not my main area of interest, but I am assured the name Fitz-Malfoi is legendary in the field." Hermione nodded and then looked round the bare house and made probably the most impulsive decision of her life. She picked up her little beaded bag, and took the Malfoy patriarch's hand.

"That honestly sounds like the best offer I've heard in months." He honestly looked surprised she was agreeing, let alone touching him.

"You do not have anything you wish to take." She gestured to the bag.

"I hadn't even begun to unpack." He blinked and then nodded. The next thing she knew she was standing in the entrance hall of a luxurious villa in what appeared to be the baroque style. Within seconds, a tall tanned blond who had to be the person all the 'sexy Mediterranean scholars' in the books her mother had read but not admitted to was based on. Golden skin, golden hair with darker streaks through it, and deep blue eyes far darker than his cousin's, all on a finely toned body. He wore chinos and a shirt partially unbuttoned with sleeves rolled up, his feet currently bare. Hermione could only stare.

"Lucius?" he said, aristocratic eyebrows creasing. "You look like hell."

Hermione blinked at the comment, said with a rich upper class Italian accent. Lucius, oddly enough, laughed.

"Considering I've just about escaped Azkaban, I would think so." He responded dryly. "You got my letter?"

The man who had to be Caesarion nodded. He then seemed to notice Hermione and tilted his head curiously at her. Lucius smiled, clearly used to his cousin's ways. Considering the family background, she was rather curious as the fact they were clearly close.

"Miss Hermione Granger. The only place she had to stay in England was in her late parents house. I could not leave one I owe my life, and Draco's, there in good conscience so I invited her to come with me to spend as much time as she wishes here to recover. I also rather thought the two of you would get on. She is known as the brightest witch of her generation, regularly beating Draco at school." Caesarion laughed at that, sending a lively grin her way.

"I bet he loved that." The two cousins sent each other a grin before Caesarion looked at her properly. "After a year on the run and everything that has happened, I bet you don't have much stuff?"

Hermione nodded, not sure where this was going.

"I'll get a dress maker in to measure you up for new clothes, proper robes and the like. Also bikinis, although those I prefer improper. And then get some proper Italian cooking into you. You look like you need quite a few good meals."

"Bikinis?" Lucius interrupted, looking confused and Caesarion grinned wickedly at him.

"Muggle swimwear. You'll like it, trust me." Hermione was staring at him slightly, mostly in shock at the casual way he'd accepted her and was happily planning to care for her as if she were family or something. He clearly mistook her surprise for his knowledge of the muggle world and shot her another wicked look. "My grandmother was a muggle born, another reason why grandfather Tiberius has to hide her away all the way over here. She made sure mother and then I were kept up to speed on the muggle world as much possible without the legitimate half of the family finding out." She couldn't help grinning, and really wondering how any Malfoy patriarch came to be having an affair with a muggleborn. It was clear what her thoughts were on her face apparently.

"It was before it became quite the issue it has been in the last couple of generations. She was his girlfriend at Hogwarts. Great grandfather didn't mind as long as he married a pure blood woman and kept the mistress out of sight. So that's what he did. Married for the family and kept his love somewhere she couldn't be found. And to the Malfoys family is before all else, so while my side is illegitimate, Abraxas grew up visiting his half sister when grandfather could manage it away from the view of his wife, and Lucius and I grew up together. Being from the illegitimate side, and a halfblood at that, I'm not required to marry thankfully so studied instead." Hermione nodded.

"Come, I'll show you your quarters, Lucius should still remember where his are. You can have a bath, relax and I will have some of my mother's robes sent up for you until we can get you some of your own made up. You are of a similar size, and close enough complexion as well. Thankfully her style was the kind that never goes out of fashion." Hermione nodded and let him lead her up the stairs to a luxurious suite of rooms, which looked like something out of the very expensive hotel brochures her father had bought to day dream about, beside his realistic holiday planning.

The second hand robes turned out to be Sophia Loren worthy fine summer clothing of silk, and as Caesarion had said, a classic timeless style that was perfect 50's vintage clothing for the warm climate. It was probably designer and worth more than most people earned in several months.

She hadn't needed the bath in terms of cleanliness but felt a million times better for it. Quietly she'd hid her disapproval of the house elf who helped her, although soon she realised something. While by her parameters Elizy was a slave, it was rather clear the elderly house elf actually ruled this house, and was also delighted to have a lady of the house again. Hermione, it had to be noted, was rather worried by being referred to as Lady of the House, considering she was under the impression that she was just a guest but hadn't actually managed to get a word in edgeways between the house elf's mutterings and orders as she turned Hermione into an infinitely more glamorous creature than she'd ever been before.

When she was shown into the central courtyard of the villa, where there was a fountain with typical classical statuary in the middle. Beside the fountain sat both Caesarion and Lucius in comfortable looking chairs by a table and each with a glass of wine in their hands. Very expensive sparkling wine judging by the bottle in the silver, highly decorated ice bucket.

Caesarion was the first to see her and he rose, picking up another antique looking Irish crystal champagne flute and pouring her a glass. Quickly following Lucius rose and turned to her, his jaw sagging slightly.

"I commend your taste in saviours cousin. Even underfed, this one is rather lovely." Caesarion drawled appreciatively as he handed her the glass and held out a chair for her. Blushing, she sat down and took the glass, finding the chair made it oddly comfortable to sit with the deportment that seemed to come naturally to her host's family. He grinned and offered her the plate of antipasti she suspected was to tide them over till the traditionally very late dinner time of much of Italy, as well as couch the alcohol.

Lucius, it had to be noted, looked far better cleaned up. He was now dressed similarly to his cousin, although both now had on leather sandals of a fairly masculine variety that seemed to match the climate. A bath had at least mostly restored his hair, and a shave massively lessened the haggard effect, although she thought it would take a few months on Capri before it fully went away to be replaced by a golden glow.

It seemed that both realised she was currently too unsure to have anything to say so politely conversed, catching up, in a way that did not exclude her at all but left her to join in as she wished. She wondered if they'd had lessons in how to do that, before her mind slid back to Elizy the ancient house elf who'd insisted on acting as her personal maid. Apparently her face was an open book as Caesarion quirked an eyebrow at her curiously, earning a blush before she explained.

"Why would Elizy call me the lady of the house?" Both men laughed.

"Wishful thinking and antiquated values my dear." Hermione gave them a confused look. "To the values of her generation, you are a proper young lady staying in the home of unmarried men, without a chaperone. Lucius also owes you a life debt, as does Draco, something she will automatically know as a family elf. Back in the old days the proper thing for the family to do would to have the highest ranked unmarried male of the family, or a male of your choice, marry you to provide you social standing. While it would not pay the life debt, it would be considered honourable to do all they could to make your life comfortable and successful and that would be the best method available to a single woman with no family. It would also provide you the protection of the whole family. Considering Lucius's recent widowing, it might be considered more proper for you to marry most likely Draco, or myself depending on your preference. Either way, in one way or another you would end up as lady of the house."

Hermione blinked at stared the man, who grinned at her and laughed.

"If Elizy is aware that there is such a thing as a single independent witch, she certainly doesn't approve. Hopefully she will not try matchmaking." Hermione blushed slightly and giggled.

"Now, we have a few hours until dinner. Is there anyone back in England you would like to contact, or would worry about where you are?" Hermione nodded.

"Harry will want to know. He's staying at Grimmauld Place, mostly because he doesn't have anywhere better yet, although there is talk of him moving back to Hogwarts to help with the rebuild." The two wizards gave each other a long look, and Caesarion nodded at Lucius, although Hermione had no idea what the two had just agreed.

"Once we have finished here, I will show you the fire room where you can contact your friend." Hermione nodded and took a sip of the somewhat predictably exquisite wine in the glass she'd been handed.

It was probably an hour later that Caesarion showed her to a comfortable looking room with an elegant chaise-long in front of a fireplace. The Italian deposited her down on the chaise and went over to the fire.

"Now, I've modified this so that you don't have to kneel down in the fireplace to talk to your friend." He went over to the fireplace and tapped the shield above the stone arch that defined the large fireplace with his wand, intoning forcefully. "Harry Potter, Grimmauld Place."

A fire suddenly bloomed into place and Hermione saw through them the image of the kitchen at Grimmauld Place. She couldn't help noticing the change in the spell resulted in something not dissimilar to a TV image and had a few suspicions about the inspiration for the special enchantment on this fireplace. She didn't have time to dwell on that however as she caught Harry staring at her in pure shock.

"Erm, hi Harry." She said, for lack of a better idea what to say. He blinked for several seconds before responding.

"Hermione! Where are you? I thought you said you were going to check out your parents house?" Hermione blushed again.

"I was, but then things sort of got complicated." She said and began to explain the last few hours to a stupefied Harry. When she got to Lucius offer to take her some place better Harry interrupted.

"Wait, that's not Malfoy Manor is it?" Hermione shook her head.

"I thought that was where he was offering at first too, but he said he wasn't that tactless." She was about to go on when Caesarion, who had been leaning against the side of the fireplace, out of view of Harry, looked at her with a frown and stepping into view of Harry.

"I have to ask why the manor would have been tactless?" He said, walking over to lean slightly on the side table by the chaise. Harry regarded the man with a fair degree of suspicion. Hermione lowered her eyes before looking back up, refusing to be ashamed and then showed him her arm.

"During the war, when we were captured Bellatrix Lestrange tortured me there." Caesarion's face hardened. He knelt down beside her, taking the maimed arm and examined the scarring.

"This was done by a cursed knife wasn't it?" She nodded then gaped as he went on the describe the blade in detail. As she was about to ask, and it looked like Harry as well, he explained. "It's an item that has been in the Black family since Roman times. Now, just give me a second."

Before they could say anything he started talking in another language she was sure was Latin and waving his wand in a complexed pattern. Hermione had to gape as the word began to vanish from her arm. Caesarion gave her a satisfied smirk, deep blue eyes hard with anger still.

"None of the healers had a clue!" Harry spluttered out as he saw the words heal. "They all said the curse was irreversible!"

The Italian turned to Harry with a satisfied smile that still did not entirely reach his eyes.

"But none of them are world renowned classical scholars. The curse on the blade is Roman one, only mostly lost to time. I rediscovered during my studies, as well as its counter. Considering human nature I put a lot of effort into making sure to original curse, or at least how to cast it, was lost again. I made sure to keep the counter somewhere safe in case I needed to use it however." Harry was looking at him in significantly increased respect and Hermione couldn't help grinning at him.

"See Harry, I told you studying history was important." He rolled his eyes at her.

"Yeah, but that's interesting and important history, not Binns droning on about the goblin rebellions." Caesarion winced.

"You have no idea how glad I am that I did not go to Hogwarts, or any of the major magic schools for that matter." Both laughed softly.

"So how did you get from Lucius Malfoy, of all people, offering you a place to stay to wherever you are now?" Caesarion listened in from where he'd resumed leaning against the side table, little smile on his face as he listened. Eventually Hermione got to who he was, and Harry openly stared at the man.

"There is a half blood actually accepted as a member of the Malfoy family?" He asked, more than slightly suspicious. Caesarion snorted.

"For a given value of accepted. I'm one of a number bearing the surname Fitz-Malfoi, which announces me as descended from a bastard line. Any time you see a surname with Fitz at the start in the British magical world, it announces the barer as of a bastard line of the family listed in the rest of the name. When the first war kicked off my British relatives cut off all contact to protect us from the kind of crazies who'd kill off all bastards, especially half bloods such as my mother and I. After Voldemort fell for the first time, Lucius was rather careful about contact. Abraxas had given my cousin to the Dark Lord, and he made sure that, even after he died Lucius would not be free. Which is why I have never been seen in England and why my little cousin grew up an utter little wanker. If I'd had a hand, he'd have actually seen the muggle world enough not to be such a dick about it." Both were staring at him at in shock. Caesarion grinned. "You have no idea how glad I am he fled to Cousin Cersei to escape Britain after you got him free, not me. Even talking to him via fire call occasionally he annoyed the living shit out of me."

Both gaped for a second before making the mistake of looking at each other and starting sniggering. Caesarion gave them a grin.

"So what should I say to the press about where you are?" Harry asked. "Literally in the few hours since you've been gone I've got so many enquiries about everything and its aunt."

Hermione stared at the fireplace, not sure how to answer that. Caesarion came to the rescue again.

"Tell them that renowned Italian Scholar, Caesarion Fitz-Malfoi, being both impressed with her academic achievements and her character offered her an apprenticeship, which she duly accepted and has moved into his home, as is appropriate for an apprentice." Both were now staring at him, and he turned to Hermione, giving her a roguish grin. "I assume you would like an apprenticeship with me?"

Gaping, she nodded.

"So its even pretty much true. And I get the loveliest apprentice going. Not to mention Draco's meltdown will be worth recording and playing back if I ever need a laugh." Harry was now grinning, clearly having taken to Caesarion. "We will work the details out later, once I've had fun spoiling you outrageously. And made most of my ancestors turning in their graves, which is definitely a plus point." Both laughed. Caesarion frowned as he looked at Grimmauld place through the fireplace.

"Is all of the place you live in like that Mr Potter?" He asked and both gave the man a surprised look. Hermione responded for Harry.

"Pretty much, or worse. We lived there for a while while on the run, and before that the Order cleared out a lot of the dark magic and things but its desperately in need of renovation." Caesarion nodded.

"I'll send Maria round to you." Harry gave him a surprised look.

"Maria?"

"She's a relative on my father's side who recently qualified as an interior decorator in both the magical and non-magical worlds and needs to build up her portfolio a bit more. The Malfoy family will pay the bill, list it as reparations if you like, you get a nice home and she gets a reference from one of the mostly highly regarded wizards in Europe. Its a win all round." Harry blinked in surprise before nodding, not sure what else to say, even as a thought occurred to Hermione. Caesarion evidently saw the question on her face and nodded for her to ask.

"If the Malfoy side is from you're mother's side, how come you still have their name?" He laughed sardonically.

"Because my father's existence was even more scandalous than mother's. He was the illegitimate son, but it was his mother being unfaithdful not his father so he had no name to give me and thus I have mother's, which is at least a name to have. They met at bastard school and married in secret, before he died in suspicious but unconfirmed circumstances not long after I was conceived." Both nodded.

"Bastard School?" Harry had to ask.

"There are enough bastards of assorted pureblood families floating round that they eventually founded a school for all of us to go to. We're given a good education away from prying eyes so that we can go make something of ourselves. Bastard daughters tend to go on to marry lesser sons of pureblood lines, the ones not important enough to be in alliance marriages, and us boys go off to become great at things, possibly marry a non-aristocratic pureblood girls and in a generation or two provide children who can be married into the main lines again to lessen inbreeding problems. How do you think they prevented inbreeding without admitting muggleborns?" Hermione snorted.

"Having met our pureblood year mates, I didn't think they did." She said before she could sensor herself. Caesarion blinked and then burst out laughing.

"Okay point. Still, its how it works in Europe. I suspect you will note a lot of the less tainted lines taking European brides in the near future, I'm willing to bet I went to school with most of their parents. The pool needs regenerating. I also suspect those of us with the odd muggle ancestor will suddenly be very popular considering the political climate over in England right now." The cynicism in his tone was obvious.

He then glanced up at the clock on the mantelpiece.

"We should be going soon, dinner will be ready in not too long, and I need to put a few pounds on you, your far too skinny." Harry began to laugh softly at Hermione's offended look before hastily wishing her goodbye and cutting off the connection. She was about to huff at her host but he held out an arm for her with such a charming grin that she couldn't do anything other than take his arm and let him lead her to the patio where there was a dinner table set up and Lucius was already sitting with a glass of red wine in his hand, staring contemplatively over the bright blue sea and watching the last remains of the sunset.

"Is the saviour adequately assured of your safety?" He drawled with a hint of his former self. Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

"Yes, and apparently Caesarion is sending someone to make Grimmauld Place liveable again. And apparently I'm his apprentice." She had to give the Malfoy patriarch his due, he barely even blinked at the announcements. He just raised an eyebrow at his cousin who grinned back.

"You've been busy then?" Caesarion merely laughed and held out a chair for Hermione with a smile.

"You could say that. Now, shall we eat?" He said as food appeared on the table and he gallantly begun to serve Hermione before himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Illegitimi Non Carborundum**

**Chapter 2**

Harry glared as he walked into the Atrium of the Ministry, now mostly cleared up from how it had been after the fall of Voldemort, and full of journalists. Aurors held them back so he had a clear walk to the podium where Kingley stood waiting for him. Ron was also there, face only barely concealing his distaste, happily having dumped both school friends for their support of the Malfoy family, despite in Harry's case there being no choice.

Once Harry was on the podium he nodded to Kingsley, who had been warned that Hermione would not be there. The interim Minister began his speech, announcing that he was granting Order of Merlin's to all three members of the Golden trio, and when done handed over to Harry to made his statement.

After a short speech that a certain Andromeda Tonks had written for him, he took out the piece of paper with Hermione's message on it.

"Now, I have here a statement from Hermione, who as you noticed was unable to make this press conference." There was baited breath. "'I apologise for my absence on this momentous occasion. The reason for this is that in the time since the trials I have been offered an apprenticeship with renowned scholar Caesarion Fitz-Malfoi and have taken him up on his offer, especial as it includes helping me earn my NEWTs that I was unable to attain due to the events of the previous year, as well as earning me a mastery." There was an uncomfortable hush at that comment that Harry couldn't help take a slightly malicious delight in. "As such, as is proper I have already moved to his home on the island of Capri, off the coast of Italy, and he did not wish to release me for this press conference. He feels that the press should not be interfering in my studies, and instead decided that should I need to interact with the press then it would be through statements such as this. He will of course allow me to come to the ceremony at which I am presented the Order of Merlin and has, as is his right, reserved the right to accompany me to said ceremony. I thank everybody for their support, and look forward to seeing all of you at the Ceremony.'"

Harry hadn't had to be looking at Ron to feel the building fury in the redhead. Thankfully the years had given him some control and his short speech didn't say anything too nasty about either Harry or Hermione. He could tell his former best friend was furious that all the attention was on Hermione, even in her absence, and not on him. Harry suspected he'd also planned to graciously forgive her in time for the ball so he had a date, but the announcement she was already taken meant he had to put some effort into finding a girl.

Once they were done Kingsley invited them back to his office and the two of them followed, happily using the chance to avoid press questions. Or at least Harry was happy, Ron looked like he liked the attention.

Once they were settled down, Kingsley turned to look at Harry curiously.

"While its no surprise to me that Hermione has been offered an apprenticeship, or in fact many most likely were planned, the speed this has happened is surprising." He said carefully.

"Most of those offered would have been because she's known as the brains of the golden trio. All three of us have got all sorts of offers since the war ended. Caesarion, I've met, and his offer is nothing to do with acquiring her fame. He's rather adorably protective of her actually. He also healed the scar on her arm Bellatrix Lestrange put there with that cursed dagger. He'd apparently found the counter curse in the course of his historical studies." Harry couldn't help but grin at the way Kingsley was staring at him. He'd only talked to Caesarion a few times and his fellow half-blood was clearly rubbing off on him.

"I'm just surprised that someone I'm fairly sure is related to the Malfoy family has altruistic reasons for helping Hermione." Ron almost growled.

"He's related to the Malfoys?" Ron asked angrily. Kingsley seemed surprised that Ron was surprised.

"Well, a surname like Fitz-Malfoi rather implies he's a Malfoy bastard." Harry rolled his eyes at his friend who probably should have known that, since it was clearly a standard bit of pureblood knowledge.

"He's Lucius Malfoy's half-blood cousin. His mother was the bastard daughter of Tiberius Malfoy and his muggleborn mistress, who he shipped off to a family estate on Capri when she got pregnant to hide her and that side of the family. I think thats why he takes near malicious glee in pissing off the purebloods." Kingsley raised an amused eyebrow at Harry.

"Really, well, I assume he would not mind me giving them a fire call to check in with Hermione myself. Its rather a shock to find her out of the country." Harry shrugged, having a feeling this would be good. If nothing else he'd get a front row seat to Ron making sure that their rift was permanent.

Kingsley, looking rather suspicious of Harry's easy acquiescence, picked up some floo powder and threw it into his large fireplace, which was apparently enchanted in a similar way to Caesarion's, as he sat back, awaiting a response.

He grinned as the stunning man that was Harry's favourite member of the extended Malfoy family wandered into the room and looked at who was apparently calling them. Caesarion flung himself down on the chaise and nodded at Harry.

"Hello Harry. I assume, based on the fact that your presser can only have recently finished, that those with you are the British Minister of Magic and a Mister Ronald Weasley?" Harry nodded, grinning as both Ron and Kingsley looked surprised at the speed of deduction. Caesarion raised an elegant eyebrow at them and gave them a half smile. "Come to check I haven't secretly kidnapped Hermione and are holding her hostage for my own advantage?"

Kingsley, Harry was sure, was trying not to blush but Ron just went red and angry.

"Forgive me Master Fitz-Malfoi, but her rather unexpected disappearance was rather surprising as was the rate at which she seems to have accepted this apprenticeship. Considering your family, you cannot hold it against us." Caesarion's eyes darkened, and although his posture had not straightened from the indolent slouch, everything in his aura spoke of restrained fury.

"I am a respected scholar of note without a single helping hand from the _legitimate_ side of my grandfather's family. If you would do you research, you would find that I have had no contact with that side during either war and only sporadic written and flu conversations during peace times. You will also note that I am also a respected scholar in the muggle world as well. There is no stain on my character, and only distant links to a family you currently do not trust. I will however remember the insult of your words." Harry saw Kingsley flinch. He'd learnt enough to know the implications of that statement. "I offered Hermione an apprenticeship out of respect for her academic record, and out of respect for her being the brains behind ridding us of the man who would have killed me for my less than pure blood, as well as the fact that both my parents were born between the sheets shall we say."

There was resounding silence, broken by Hermione wandering in, dressed like Harry had never seen her, in a rich wrap round robe, sunglasses on her head, pushing back hair that was now in the kind of waves that made her look like a model, especially with the sun bleached highlights in her hair. Robe, discrete jewellery and sunglasses were all evidently expensive designer. Having some experience of muggle culture, Harry was fairly sure there was a swimsuit underneath. She was already showing the signs of a lovely golden tan, and of regaining a healthy weight.

Harry glanced sideways at his former best friend and couldn't help grinning at the gape on his face as he saw Hermione looking so beautiful. Ron deserved it frankly.

She saw who was the other side of the fire and grinned, greeting him and Kingsley, conspicuously not even acknowledging Ron. She then gracefully took the other end of the chaise, seemingly not minding that Caesarion's arm was resting on the low back behind her. Her robe slid off her leg, revealing a tanned thigh before she pulled it back over her knees primly.

"Kingsley, to what do I owe the honour?" She asked, smiling at him. He smiled back.

"We were a tad worried about you having rather suddenly moved country and wanted to check on your well being beyond Harry's assurances." Kingsley said. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"What you mean is, you heard the name of my new master, decided he was secretly a bond villain or something who must be controlling me and that I needed rescuing. And that me moving out of Britain and refusing to be paraded out anytime someone felt like it was bad for ministry PR, so you'd quite like me back thanks. Sorry, nope, here of my own free will." Kingsley seemed rather shocked and she grinned at him. "Caesarion seems to feel I need to be up on how to play politics, as does apparently Elizy, the house elf who has decided that she is my maid and is insisting on training me up to her expected levels of mistress."

The minister nodded at her and grinned.

"You've found out how pushy House elves can be when they want to then? You do have to admit reason for concern considering you have very visibly changed even in the short time you've been there. Your fashion sense, style and even posture seem to be different." Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

"Most of the chairs here are designed so you can't comfortably slouch in them, which I'm told is deliberate. Also, Elizy nags every time my posture is less than ladylike, and she's very hard to argue against. As for the clothes and hairstyle, Caesarion's first act as my master was to take me on a shopping trip I'm not sure I want to see the bill for considering it involved many of the high fashion houses of Milan and Rome. He also had me go through the full pureblood debutante spa thing, including hairdresser, and Elizy insists on, every morning, doing my hair properly. Seriously, if anything I'm being pampered beyond all sanity here."

Caesarion grinned at her.

"And I'm having the time of my life doing so. I haven't had this much fun since my PhD thesis caused ructions in the international academic community. Anyway, its my duty as your master." Kingsley raised an eyebrow at him.

"I don't recall any part of the master apprentice contract involving designer shopping trips and etiquette lessons." Caesarion just shrugged expressively.

"Not in English ones. We're in Italy." There was a dawning look on the Minister's face as Ron's temper gave out.

"What the hell has that got to do with anything Malfoy?" Caesarion gave him an imperious look.

"Boy, I am a Fitz-Malfoi, not a Malfoy and I would advise you to remember that." He said with quiet menace. Kingsley clearly hadn't been paying much attention, as his eyes widened in realisation. "Minister, would you care to explain?"

"Italy has one of the oldest magical societies in Europe, and their apprentice-master contract is at least a thousand years older than most of the rest of Europe, dating back to the early Roman era. During that time it was viewed that a woman could not be without a male guardian full stop. If a woman becomes an apprentice and doesn't otherwise have some variety of male guardian then their master becomes theirs. Recent liberalisation limits that to the under twenty fives, but since Hermione has no living family or husband then Caesarion is not just her master but guardian with full responsibility for her clothing, education outside the mastery, so social etc, he even has the right to yay or nay any romantic interests. That's what you meant by his claiming his right to choose your partner for the Order of Merlin ball. In an English apprenticeship, he would have no right over who you wished to date but because your contract is Italian he has all the rights of a full paterfamilias as much as the full responsibilities to you." The last part was addressed to Hermione, who was realising she should have got a translation of the contract first. Although she wondered whether that was actually in the contract or just under Italian magical law, which was obviously rather antiquated.

"Which explains your protectiveness at least." She commented dryly to Caesarion, who had acted like an unusually attentive older brother quite a lot of the time, at least from her point of view. He grinned at her.

"Well that, and you are so clearly a babe in the woods infested by wolves, well wolves, a pug and chihuahua." Hermione sniggered. Some days before, when explaining Ron, he'd compared the redhead's behaviour to that of chihuahuas or other lap dogs, who wanted attention for doing nothing, everything handed to them on a plate and got yappy and aggressive when ignored. It was an unkind but not entirely unfair comparison. It also usefully passed right over Ron's head, not being immediately obvious that it was him being insulted. "You need looking after, and since Britain seems intent on using you that leaves it up to me."

Kingsley seemed to view that as fair enough and nodded. Caesarion then turned to Harry.

"How are you getting on with Maria?" Harry grinned, knowing that the timing of the question was deliberate.

"She's horrified at the state of Grimmauld place, but has all the plans in the world. They all look lovely though and we expect work to begin next week." Kingsley turned and gave Harry a curious look. "Maria is a friend and distant relative of Caesarion's from the other side of the family. Apparently another part of the bastards club as he calls it. She's a young interior designer that he sent to me to get Grimmauld Place up to his high Italian standards."

Caesarion grinned ferally.

"And then bullied _dear cousin Lucius_ into paying for it all. I thought it made suitable reparation for some of the things he put young Harry through at school. I may have also bullied him into offering financial help for a few other good causes as well. Like funding integration courses so pureblood children can learn about the muggle world and muggleborns getting a proper introduction to the wizarding world before Hogwarts to help lessen tensions and prevent further wars caused by similar problems. I'm not sure he likes it, but I'm getting warm fuzzies at the though of how many of my ancestors are turning in their graves at Malfoy money being used for that." Kingsley snorted.

"You do know his sentence involved a fair amount of financial reparations?" Caesarion shrugged.

"A percentage of his money you know about and identify as his. I know. And I also know that most of the family money is hidden with the assorted bastard cousins sprinkled round Europe. Why do you think we're never chucked out of the family despite few of us being pureblood? We're great for hiding wealth with, and in a few generations will be pureblooded enough to marry back into main families to prevent inbreeding." Kingsley rolled his eyes, fully aware that the rather large percentage of known fortune taken by the ministry was barely a dent in the Malfoy wealth.

"Fair enough, and thank you for your esteemed help in that department. We shall look forward to seeing you for the first time in Britain at the end of August." Caesarion grinned and nodded, rising and offering his hand to Hermione.

"And we shall look forward to seeing you. Come Hermione, you shall soon see what I mean about the beach being the best place to study Roman history." He walked off, letting the connection die, Hermione on his arm.

There was a beat of silence before Ron exploded.

"What the hell do you think you're doing letting her stay with _that_?!" He spat out. "He obviously got her to sign a contract she didn't understand and is using it to control her!"

Harry snorted derisively at his former best mate.

"Say the person who only a few weeks ago told the two us that we were clearly traitors for supporting the Malfoys in court, despite it being necessary for me to pay a life debt, and Hermione was the good friend who wouldn't let me deal with that alone. And the person who has happily been emotionally abusing us for years, only being on our side when it suited you, wafting in and demanding back exactly the same former friendship after having deserted either Hermione or I when we needed you and never once saying sorry or seeing what you had done wrong. You refused to let us socialise with people you did not like, and got angry and deliberately humiliated us or ruined special occasions for us when we went out of what you would allow. No Ronald Weasley, we are both well shot of you. We are going to live our lives without interference from people who think they know what is best for us from now on." Both Kingsley and Ron were gaping at him.

"How dare you?" Ron yelled and began on a rant of all he did for them over the years and Harry rolled his eyes, sitting back and letting Kingsley see what the problem was. Once Ron had run out of steam at the obvious lack of response Harry looked up again.

"I'll admit in first year you had some potential, but that slowly vanished as we got older. And as for what you did, have you forgotten bullying Hermione to the point she was crying in the bathroom for most of the day, or has that part of the troll rescue been forgotten? She was there because you were so verbally abusive, lets call the bullying what it is, that she had to hide from you. You were only part of rescuing her because I insisted that you come along and do something to lessen the wrong you did her. Third year you deliberately ostracised her on purely circumstantial evidence that her cat harmed Scabbers, and I note no apologies when it was found out he was in fact a murderer and traitor, and that the cat had been right all along. Fourth Year you deserted both of us, knowing all I wanted was a quiet year because of your jealousy and only cam back, once again without any true apology, when you finally realised someone was trying to _kill_ me. And then you deliberately ruin the Yule ball for Hermione because she has the guts to go with someone not of Hogwarts. You only asked her as a last resort and once again were jealous when she showed that she is neither your possession nor a charity case. Sixth year, its Hermione you're trying to hurt again. And the less said about your actions then the better. Then while we're on the run you desert us again, only to come back, yet again with no apology, because its not the nice comfy life you expect to have. And there is the general pattern of behaviour over the years. You refuse to let me study, the sole exception being for defence in fifth year and that was because you thought that was cool. You derided Hermione for studying and wanting to use and develop her gifts. You got angry any time either of us tried socialising outside the group you wanted us to. You deliberately inflamed tensions in the school insisting on insulting any house but our own, and may I point out thus deriding the majority of the population, and picking fights. Your only saving grace was being a child. However the behaviour carries on now you are an adult so its hardly a mitigating factor." Harry said coolly, and raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response. Ron had gone full face red and was spluttering disbelievingly. Apparently he couldn't get words together enough and so reverted very much to type and attempted to punch Harry. Harry, however, had expected the response, knowing Ron's tendency to try and use force before thinking up a proper answer.

The punch, and Ron, bounced off his shield. Kingsley reacted like the battle hardened auror he was and before either of them could blink Ron was stunned. The Minister gave Harry a sad look.

"I will take him quietly back home if you don't mind, and explain to Molly and Arthur what has happened, along with a few suggestions for how they should behave. If you want you can report him for attempted assault, but I think at the moment it would well, be politically better to keep the rift of the golden trio in private." Harry nodded.

"I'll let him blow it up in public, so any fall out is on him. Hopefully he can keep it together for at least the Order of Merlin ceremony and ball. Although it think Caesarion should be able to protect Hermione more than adequately from anything he tries. I've quickly learnt that that man is one highly competent wizard, and not just magically." Kingsley nodded.

"Let me get this one home and then we will talk further." Harry nodded and let the minister haul the stunned Ron back to the Burrow.

While Caesarion had said they were going to the beach, they were in fact going for a ride on his private yacht, a beautiful classic wooden vessel which looked like it belonged in a Hollywood film about the rich and famous. Lucius, who had been fairly recluse since arriving, was waiting for them.

"Cousin darling. How did your counselling session go?" The first sentence had been said with a certain degree of mocking but the second was dead serious. One of the first things Caesarion had done, other than revamping Hermione's style, was to get both of them trauma councillors. He'd also found one who was willing to work with Harry in Britain. When he'd done that last one both Harry and Hermione had gaped at him in shock, but he'd just shrugged and announced Malfoy money was paying for it, but that the mind healers were part of the bastard club so people he always aimed to give a little shove. Both Harry and Hermione had quickly learnt that the man seemed to have decided Harry was nearly as much his responsibility as Hermione, and that he seemed impossible to argue with.

Lucius shrugged and looked down.

"Well enough. Apparently I have an awful lot of trauma to deal with." He said sardonically. Hermione snorted, they all had. Her own experience with the trauma councillor showed that her experiences were only a small part of it. Talking to Harry, his one had shown that as well. Both councillors seemed to be strongly on the opinion that their entire adolescent lives had been a massive experience in coercive control, multiple people using emotional manipulation to control them and force them into traumatic situations, as well as often physically dangerous ones. It had been eye opening to see just how awful their Hogwarts years truly had been. They'd also had the less pleasant bits of their own behaviour shown up and confronted, but much of it paled in comparison to what had been done to them.

"We'd never have guessed, all things considered." Caesarion drawled sardonically then grinned at the look on his cousin's face when Hermione dropped her robe absently before wandering to the front of the boat and into the bright sunshine.

Somehow this was the first occasion Lucius had actually seen her in one of the selection of designer bikinis that Caesarion had bought her, and the Italian couldn't help but grin at the look on his face as he gaped at the barely covered form.

"The muggles call _that_ appropriately covered?" Caesarion grinned and nodded. "Remind me why I thought their culture inferior again?"

Caesarion burst out laughing and finished removing his clothing to reveal his own muggle swimming trunks and meandered over to his apprentice, wrapping a hand round her waist and she turned to him with a smile.

"Lucius, I think, might just had a major paradigm shift." Hermione looked behind her to the gaping blond and grinned.

"You mean he's suddenly realised that there are a few things in muggle culture he rather likes?" Casearion laughed.

"And I suspect would quite like to be the one with his arm round you at the moment. You are displaying quite a few yards of very nicely tanned flesh. And proper food is making your breasts develop quite nicely thanks." Hermione snorted derisively. She was never quite sure if Caesarion was interested in her or not. She knew in wasn't uncommon for masters and female apprentices to end up in relationships, of varying degrees of equality, but Caesarion was hard to read. He regularly made comments about her appearance and attractiveness, but when it came to fashions and style he was almost the stereotypical gay guy at times and so she couldn't tell whether his comments were objective aesthetic appreciation or not.

The man in question raised an eyebrow at her sardonically.

"I can see you thinking a question Hermione. Ask, I won't be offended I promise you." She blushed slightly.

"Erm, well..." She couldn't quite work out how to phrase it. He grinned.

"You are wondering whether I am interested in you or gay, am I right?" For a man who liked to live in seclusion, he was incredibly perceptive. She just blushed and nodded. He nodded and turned serious, looking out at the sea for a long time before answering, eyes hooded and not quite looking at her. "I am Pan, as the muggles term it. My interest in a partner, either sexual or romantic, is not particularly related to gender. I choose partners on something deeper than that. I have had one night stands but even then it was with people I genuinely liked. Any relationship I form is based on a deep and abiding emotional connection with a person, and in no way related to what they have in their underwear. I of course have aesthetic appreciation, I'm Italian for goodness sake. You are beautiful, and I'm having a lot of fun dressing you up and making sure everyone can see your beauty. And then protecting you from the people who only see the surface, or at least only care for the surface, because while I want people to know how wonderful you are, I have no desire to let them use it."

Hermione blinked up at him in surprise. Somewhat unconsciously, she was sure, his arm had tightened round her and she was now held closely to his chest. After a second's consideration, she lent her head against the finely toned chest. Caesarion smiled down at her.

"You don't seem to mind my attention?" She shook her head.

"Why on earth would I? You're both a wonderful person, and frankly the best looking person I've ever laid eyes on." Caesarion burst out laughing and held her closer.

"I'm glad you think that, I do work on it. And I'm glad you think I'm a wonderful person, you have a higher opinion than many." Hermione merely snuggled against his chest.

Much later on the afternoon, when Caesarion had gone off to check something or other, Lucius came up to Hermione, eyes still dark.

"Don't hurt him please." The man said without preamble. Hermione blinked at him in surprise. "I'm not sure how he loves you, as family or as a romantic partner, but I can already tell he loves you. He's been hurt before, in a world not accepting of his views on relationships, and I would not see a man as good as him abused again. He has taken to you like no other I've seen. He is not only fighting for you but the one other person you care for because of that. He'll pretend its just glee at using Malfoy money to help muggleborns and half bloods, but its because he cares for you."

Hermione was gaping slightly, and she noticed the slight smile on the older man's face.

"I knew before bring you here that you two were kindred spirits and would get on well. It might have been the life debt that made me make the original decision but I am unspeakably glad I did so regardless. I've never seen him so happy as he is round you."

She nodded. After a long moment (and sip of the glass of wine Caesarion had handed her), she answered.

"I like him too. And I have no clue as to how he feels about me, or me about him, but I will do my best not to hurt him. I can't remember having been this well looked after, even my parents didn't, although I think that wasn't so much lack of desire as lack of power." Lucius nodded.

"He's a good man. Why do you think I hid most of the Malfoy money with him? I knew I could trust him. And whatever protest I put up, I'm honestly quite happy to let him use my money the way it is." Hermione laughed at the frank admission that the Malfoy patriarch didn't really mind his cousin spending his money for the benefit of distinctly non-pureblood causes.

It was then that Caesarion wafted back, somewhat inevitably with a tray of antipasti floating beside him. Resigned to his insistence on feeding her up, Hermione grinned and wandered over to the table to help herself to the divine food on offer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Illegitimi Non Carborundum**

**Chapter 3**

The hundred yard strip of red carpet between the apparition room and the ball room had rope lines enchanted to prevent the reporters overstepping their bounds. For the actual order of Merlin event there was a very select guest list with ministry selected photographer and reporters who were all under strict contracts. This strip that the guests had to enter by had been the little hand out to the rest of the press, allowing them to at least see the guests arriving.

While most of the guests were no great surprise, the people to be honoured made a few waves. First a Mr Ronald Weasley arrived with Parvati Patil on his arm, something rather shocking to those who hadn't read the earlier press release.

Harry was the next big surprise as, to just about everyone's surprise, he didn't have a Miss Ginny Weasley on his arm but a startlingly beautiful black haired, golden skinned lady of evidently Latin descent. Rich almost purple eyes looked round with a touch of an amused smile to her rich red painted mouth. It wasn't just that she was unknown that was a big surprise. She was wearing a gorgeous deep crimson dress that was exquisitely tailored and clearly cost a bomb. It was accessorised with jewellery, including coronet, that had to come from an upper class pureblood's family vault. Everything about her spoke of a pureblood lady, but no-one even knew who she was.

Just as they were posing for photos, the mysterious lady manoeuvring Harry Potter into position (he notably dressed in robes that matched up to his date's), the next shock turned up in the form of one Hermione Granger.

It was hard to work out where to start one what was shocking about her and her date. Possibly it started with her date. They'd all heard of the reknowned scholar by now, in the wake of the press release, as the Daily Prophet (or the daily profit as Caesarion called them rather cynically) had done a number of articles on him. What they hadn't been able to find were any photos of the apparently reclusive scholar. They were out there of course, but not in the hands of anyone who would give one to the prophet, and their best mole, Rita Skeeter, had been oddly ill for nearly a month now.

Everyone had expected, from the description of him as a renowned scholar, that he would be an older gentleman of august appearance. Instead he was in his forties, still in his prime by wizarding standards, and stunningly good looking. Caramel hair worn long, but not as much so as his infamous cousin, and tied back gave a hint of maturity to the finely chiselled features touched heavily with a perfect suntan. Deep dark blue eyes glowed almost and drew the eye, adding to the favourable looks. As one looked beyond his face his height and finely toned shape were obvious even in his finely tailored robes that carefully blended traditional styles with a distinctly modern edge and no doubt cost a fortune.

Then there was Hermione Granger herself. This was clearly not the same witch who'd last been photographed snogging Ronald Weasley in the wake of Voldemort's death, but an infinitely more refined one wearing the same facial features. Even those actually looked different.

Caesarion's attempts to put weight back on her in the last month had worked wonders and the curves she'd have developed if she hadn't spent much of the past year half starved had come out revealing a figure to kill for. Smooth, perfect sun kissed but still quite pale skin was on view in a dress that, like Harry's date, had to have cost most than many people's incomes. The dress was no doubt going to be the talk of the fashion pages for weeks.

The oddly modest Grecian inspired gown still flashed more than enough skin not to be frumpy, done in deep dusky blue and embroidered with golden thread and gemstones, done tastefully round the raised waistline and v neck. The dress was pinned at the shoulders and an almost cloak like shawl was pinned to those clearly antique broaches, dropping down to show the acres of flawless back the dress's cut revealed. The skirt flowed from the slightly raised waist, thick silk duchess satin clinging to her curves and showing them off perfectly.

This was all complimented by jewellery that looked like it also came from a family vault and had been there for centuries. Matching the style of the dress it was fine Roman style journey including what could have passed as an imperial crown. Her hair had been tamed into loose, wavy curls and had been curled back round the coronet in a sort of low half up half down style with that same classical touch that pulled her hair back from her face to show off her fine facial features yet let the sun streaked hair flow down her back.

The overall look was carefully balanced between classical beauty, modesty, pure sexiness enhanced by said modesty somehow, and pure undiluted wealth.

On Caesarion's arm the two looked like a king and queen arriving for a royal banquet and effortlessly outclassed everyone else there by a mile.

The press went crazy.

When they got to the door of the ball room they stopped to talk to Harry and his date, who'd watched their arrival with amused looks, knowing all the attention was on the other couple.

Hermione greeted Harry fondly before hugging the young woman on his arms and they shared kisses on the cheek in the finest of Italian style.

"Maria! Its a delight to see you here! I see he raided the vault for you too?" The darker woman laughed brightly.

"But of course, I am his cousin." The press clearly had noted her rich Italian accent, with an upper class edge. The mystery woman then smiled at Caesarion and greeted him as fondly as she had Hermione and the two talked for a few seconds in Italian, rather deliberately Hermione thought, her still rudimentary Italian only half keeping up.

Both couples then took position either side of each other and sent out a pulse of magic for the imposing doors to open into the ball room and made a joint entry, grandly stealing the entire room.

They swept down the ornate grand staircase, effortlessly commanding the room, the official photographer taking photos like crazy as he was given the shot of a lifetime, not realising that Caesarion was quietly manipulating the lighting to give the best shot of the four of them. Whilst Hermione's English side was rather embarrassed by the attention, she could appreciate the master manipulation Caesarion was doing and the effect it would achieve.

Kingsley was in full minister persona as he greeted first Harry and Hermione and then their dates.

"May I ask who the lovely lady is?" He asked Harry, kissing Maria's hand as he did. Harry smiled.

"This is Maria Proietta-Medici, Kingsley. Maria, meet our esteemed minister of magic, Kingsley Shackelbolt." The surname caused a massive raised eyebrow from Kingsley, who in the weeks between the press conference and the ball had done a lot of research into the pureblood bastards of Europe. Proietta or Proietto (gender dependant) had somehow become the common version of 'Fitz' in the Italian magical culture, and announced Maria was at least a descendant of a Bastard, apparently of the Medici line, which had died out far later in the magical world than in the non-magical due to magical children having been hidden away from the family during the era when it could not be admitted the family had a strong magical line.

Maria gave a little smile at the look on the minster's expression of surprise, and the way he immediately looked at Caesarion, who grinned back.

"Yes, she is the interior designer I sent to sort out Harry's home. Apparently they get on well, and London is about to get a Medici villa." Harry rolled his eyes and both he and Maria laughed at Caesarion. Kingsley just smiled and led them to the table where they were sitting with the minister, his wife, Ron and Pavarti. Ron was glaring like no tomorrow but Pavarti had other things on her mind.

"Oh my gosh Hermione. You look fantastic! Where on earth did you get that dress and jewellery?" Hermione laughed at her former room mate, noticing the shadow in her eyes that showed much of the shallow before the war was gone but returning to such behaviour was how she was coping.

"Ask Caesarion. All I did was stand there as someone measured me while he talked with the designer, who was camper than a row of tents." Caesarion snorted derisively at the comment.

"Thats one of the politer descriptions of Giorgio I've ever heard, but he knows just how to design a dress. And yes, Giorgio is yet another member of the bastard club and is _that_ Giorgio as in the world renowned fashion designer Miss Patil." He drawled. "And to answer what I am sure is your next question, both ladies jewellery I may have raided from the Malfoy ancestral vaults, having bullied my dear legitimate cousin into letting me take what the hell I like from there. I'm quite cheerfully imagining generations of Malfoys turning in their graves at family jewellery appearing on a half blood and a muggleborn."

There was a slight silence at that announcement as Parvati looked between the two other young women at the table, trying to settle on what to ask next.

"You're a halfblood?" Maria laughed softly.

"Yes. My father is the bastard son of the last Magical Medici Prince with a muggleborn women he had a short affair with. My mother is the bastard daughter of an Occitain pureblood with _his_ muggleborn mistress. Both pureblood grandparents were killed fighting Grindlewald, although my paternal granfather's first wife and Caesarion's paternal grandmother survived until fairly recently despite having been disgraced for having an affair, hence he takes his mother's name." The rest of the table blinked at the info dump said in a slightly caustic tone only mildly disguised by the thick Italian accent.

"For reference, when Caesarion refers to the Bastard Club, what he means is the surprisingly large community of mostly half-blood illegitimate children of the rich pureblood houses and their descendants. They even have a school they all go to and tend to be some of the great minds in whatever their chosen career is. They're an interesting lot, you'd like them. I think they have it in for pureblood families more than us muggleborns half the time." Both Caesarion and Maria laughed.

"We never had a shiny view of magic to be tarnished first, and we have the education as well as usually access to our pureblood relatives wealth to be able to do something." He grinned wickedly. "We would however of course deny any plots if we were asked on record."

There was a nervous laugh.

Thankfully that was timed for the start of the ceremony section of the evening so it cut off the awkward silence before it properly had time to get going.

Kingsley rose and took the podium, the lighting dimming so that only his podium was lit up and the attention changed to the Minister. He swept his gaze round the audience silencing any last talkers before he started.

"Welcome one and all. We are here today both to remember and to celebrate. To remember all who are not here tonight, to celebrate that we are even able to be here tonight and most of all to celebrate those who are the reason that we are able to sit here tonight." He paused and let people think for a second before carrying on. "There are many who fought for our right to be free over the last year of darkness, and many more who fought the rise of darkness, many of whom are not here today. Then there are the victims, innocents going about their daily lives who were victimised often to the point of death, who are also not here today. We all know the reasons why. I will not repeat them here."

Kingsley paused again.

"But as is said in the prologue of the gospel of John, often thought by muggles as one of the most profound pieces of writing ever put to paper, 'And the light shineth in the darkness, and the darkness overcame it not'*. We all know who the light was that shone in the darkness, who refused to give in. Who, like the sun, hid during the darkness that was Tom Riddle's reign only to rise and bring with them a new dawn. Many of us fight but only three were able to do what was necessary to end the darkness, and barely adult though they were they surpassed all reasonable expectation to destroy Tom Riddle and the darkness he brought with him and return light to the land. It is these three people we are here to honour tonight, to thank them formally for our freedom." He paused again, smiling into the expectant silence.

"There was much debate about the precise nature of the awards to be given out, whether the three members should have different classes of Order of Merlin, but I decided that not to give them equal recognition would serve just to reiterate the tensions and separation that caused the original war. Each and every one of them was necessary to the victory, and their success required all of them. We should not try to differentiate as to how much one or other contributed to our survival." Hermione saw Ron's pinched look, and one or two others. She had a suspicion what that meant, that there had been people who wanted to give her a lesser award, and possibly Ron as well, but most likely her, probably due to her muggleborn status. Obviously some people out there had learnt no more after this war than the last. Her eyes flashed. She would not allow Britain to segue back into the racism and divide that had caused the last war, and Caesarion's hand on hers informed her that he was more than willing to fight beside her.

"Now, I don't think I need to say the names really, but can Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley please all come up to the podium." Hermione rose and took the arm Harry offered her, Ron following and clearly trying not to look too grumpy as Harry helped her up the stairs. Clearly Maria had been giving him lessons somewhere between redesigning his house.

Once on the platform there was little said as first Harry, then Hermione and finally Ron were given medals, which looked fairly oversized and ostentatious to Hermione, but she was hardly going to say that of the highest honour her country had, especially when she was being presented said medal.

Once they were done, Kingsley directed them to face forward.

"Our newest Order of Merlin First Class holders! Harry Potter." Harry stepped forward, bowed as people clapped and cheered raucously.

"Hermione Granger." She stepped forward and gave a sort of half curtsy/bow to the audience, smiling brightly.

"And Ronald Weasley." Ron took his cues from the others, stepped forward and bowed, taking his applause with the best grace he'd shown all evening.

"Now if you'd like to collect your dates and take the opening dance?" Both Harry and Ron moved to walk down the stairs to gather their dates, but before Hermione could even think of following or taking the arm Harry was moving to offer, Caesarion was at the stage holding his arms out for her. Grinning at the beautiful Italian she let him lift her off the stage and swing her round in the air before dropping her into his arms and lowering her to the floor.

A small part of her registered the cameras going mad at this but she was too busy focusing on the proud look on her master's face. Then, everything faded out as he pulled her close, cupped her face and kissed her deeply.

Her brain shut out until the only thing it noticed was how much better kisser than Ron. When she came back to the real world, cameras were still flashing like crazy and her arms were round Caesarion's neck. As she caught her breath a smile began to light up her face. Then she reached in for another kiss.

The rest of the ball went surprisingly well, even with people constantly coming up to gush about her new look, her apprenticeship and her relationship with her new master, who had smuggly pointed out such relationships between master and apprentice were far from unusual, adding that he was delighted that offering it had introduced him to the first and only woman to complete his soul.

The press had gone mad over that declaration, and Hermione couldn't help noticing how much Caesarion was happy to play up the Romeo and Juliet comparisons, and every other sickly romantic thought people could come up with.

Ron was surprisingly well behaved, until it was revealed that Maria had quietly cursed him under the table with something she'd found in the Medici family journals that prevented him blasting off and she assured Hermione it would be many years before the spell wore off, preventing him airing dirty laundry in public. Private was a different matter but the spell had been designed to limit public fall outs and their political damage so that was not surprising.

The next morning she woke up to the smell of breakfast being delivered to the suite at the Ritz. She was not sure she wanted to know how much Caesarion had paid for the Royal Suite at the poshest hotel in London but the luxury was certainly worth it. She had only realised that he'd only booked the two of them one bedroom when they returned from the ball as it had separate dressing rooms. When she'd realised that he gave her a sort of boyish innocent look.

"Lucius assured me that you would not turn down any advance from me, and so I planned to formally claim you as my own at the ceremony at which point I thought you would not mind sharing a bed." She'd blushed and shrugged. "I don't expect anything from you, or want to pressure you.." He trailed off.

Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped forward to kiss him.

"Do I look upset?" She asked dryly and she could feel his muscles relaxing as a relieved look came onto his face.

"I was worried." He said softly and happily took her invitation to another kiss before the two went to undress from their finery, before tucking into the huge elegant bed.

Now morning was here, although Caesarion still appeared dead to the world. Hermione rose and pulled on the silk robe on the door before padding out to where immaculately dressed staff were setting out a decadently luxurious breakfast that apparently Caesarion had ordered when he booked the room.

Apparently the decadent smells had called her master from his best and he appeared, looking more mussed than she had ever seen him, in only midnight blue satin sleeping trousers and matching robe. He looked incredibly sinful like that Hermione couldn't help staring as he stalked up, wrapped an arm round her waist and led her to the table.

Once the servers were gone and they had eaten enough to quench their initial hunger, she turned to Caesarion and tilted her head curiously.

"So how is this going to work?" She asked him. "I mean, I know you said masters often have romantic relationships with apprentices but..."

Caesarion smiled at her, looking unusually unsure.

"Erm. If I am honest I hadn't quite worked that out yet. I haven't planned to give you structured lessons as is the case with many apprenticeships in most subjects. After all this is a pure, academic subject not a vocational one. Lesson ideas mostly consisted of taking you to all the great classical sites, as well as many of the smaller ones, giving you access to my extensive library, as well as arranging trips to any academic libraries we thought useful, and in between trips and reading both ancient source material and modern academia on the subject discussing what you read, what you are interested in and suchlike. As we got further through I was thinking of focusing you on an area of interest for you thesis and getting to work on you writing that. Once it is done it will be sent off to my Alma Mater to be looked over and critiqued by other masters before you have to do a viva voce. As far as I can see, it sounds fairly like it wouldn't be much different from how we would carry out a relationship, just with an extra teaching element, considering our shared interests."

Hermione smiled at him, thinking that it sounded far more interesting a way of studying than she'd so far come across.

"Okay, that makes sense. I just wanted to make sure there wasn't anything like situations where I have to treat you like my master, not my lover." Caesarion smiled.

"I will warn you in advance if there is an occasion coming up where we have to behave so, if that makes you happier." She smiled and nodded to the man, whose smile lit up the room. "So I will carry on courting you with a side order of education then?"'She smiled at him before blushing.

"Courting?" His expression went serious and he looked into her eyes.

"Yes. I will not casually date, and I do not enter a relationship without the intention of it lasting. As much in modern parlance we are dating, I am courting you. I have already thought that you might be the other half of my soul and it is my intent to court you and investigate that." Hermione nodded, shocked at the candid comment, far too used to boys who were far more interested in sex than a relationship. Then as the realisation of what he was asking for swept over her her lips twisted into a smile and her eyes lit up.

Before she knew what she was doing, she was in his lap kissing him enthusiastically.

"I'll take that as a yes then?" Caesarion asked breathlessly when they separated.

She laughed softly.

It was over a week later that they returned to Capri, having spent much of the time apparating to Roman sites around Britain as well as museums. Vindolanda had been one of their mutual favourites, especially since Caesarion has used his academic credentials (although people had raised a few eyebrow at his name, to which he'd dryly responded that a love of the classical ran in the family) to get them into all the stores members of the public didn't get to see.

When they returned they were hand in hand and Lucius was waiting for them with a smile that looked on the usually serious face.

He gave to two of them a sardonic look

"Good photo you two. I take it to assume the worlds most famous muggleborn is soon to be a permanent member of my family?" He asked dryly, holding up a newspaper. On the front page was the picture from the ball of the pair of them kissing just after the ceremony.

Hermione blushed. She'd known they'd made the papers, who were still wittering on about it days later.

"You'll be glad to know I got your lawyer to get the originals of all the photos of either of you. You'll be less pleased to know that I found a magical painter to turn that one into a nice painting which I am going to put up in the manor just to annoy all our ancestor." Hermione was just staring at the Malfoy patriarch in disbelief, until the silence was broken by Caesarion burst out into laughter.

Fin

*This is a deliberately slightly paraphrased quote rather than exact from any specific bible, although it conveys the meaning of the original Greek properly. Particularly the use of the word 'overcame' which is a far more literally accurate translation of the Greek word used than comprehended which is the word used in the King James bible and thus in lots of updated versions of the text.


	4. Chapter 4

**Illegitimi Non Carborundum**

Content warning: Mention of Suicide.

**Chapter 4**

The next several years could not be accused of being boring, it had to be admitted. They certainly were not all good. Don't get me wrong, a lot of it was good, even utterly beautiful and Hermione by now was utterly besotted with the man who would only be her master for a short time longer. That relationship had mostly been good, with the two of the gelling together very well. It was the rest of the world that was more complicated.

Firstly, despite Caesarion mostly keeping her away from Britain, they had both been involved in the rebuilding of British Society, and a lot more than most people thought. Caesarion, who Hermione had learnt was a consummate politician, had seen an opportunity and, with the rest of the bastard club, had gone in to rebuild Britain to be the first European magical society not to be a pureblood paradise of prejudice. The war had left many of them with the pureblood wealth of their legitimate cousins and the lot of them took glee in using it to rebuild a fairer and more equal society. True democracy had been instigated, much of the corruption had been weeded out and mechanisms had been put in place to protect government institutions from backsliding. And then there had been press regulation brought in to prevent the way the Prophet had treated Harry from happening again.

The worst that had happened, at least to her new family unit, was the suicide of Draco Malfoy. Many of the young people particularly that had been forced into Voldemort's service had killed themselves particularly in the first year after the fall. The trauma on the young minds had been too much, especially combined with the lack of sympathy from wider society. It had been the first suicide that had made Caesarion realise that about the only person he was linked to he hadn't forced counselling on was Draco and he'd somewhat belatedly sent someone to help Draco. The boy had sent them away preemptively and sunk further into his own trauma. Within six months he had found a way to kill himself before anyone could find and save him.

That had broken Lucius in a way that his widowing had not. He had grieved deeply for his wife, but the loss of his only son and heir had been the fatal blow so to speak, and Hermione had a strong feeling that he was only holding on for something, although she didn't know what. Caesarion too had been greatly hurt by the death. He'd blamed himself for the delay in sending Draco help, and for not being forceful enough to make Draco take the help offered. It had taken all of Hermione's compassion to support him through that and getting him to see a councillor as well.

Today was her Viva Voce, the Latin term used by universities in the muggle world, and similar institutions in the magical world for the last exercise necessary for getting a mastery or PhD, whichever one you were trying to earn.

Caesarion was allowed to be present but was not allowed to contribute and he sat on a chair in the corner of the room watching, nervousness well hidden. He had good reason to be nervous. The simpler one was because it was in Italian, as she'd studied under an Italian master and so it was the Italian convivium granting her a Mastery, which of course required it be written in and defended in Italian. She had got pretty much fluent in the language over the course of her mastery, helped by magic, but it was still her third language after English and French. She'd also had to learn classical Latin and Ancient Greek, and it was likely she'd also be using those languages in her defence of her thesis.

The other, more serious, reason was that she was a muggleborn. The Italian Convivium of Mastery (the magical world's approximate equivalent of a university, essentially the technical term for all the masters in a country whose responsibility included granting masteries and overseeing the adult education section of the wizard world) had not granted a mastery to a muggleborn of either gender in over a century, and never one to a female muggleborn full stop. Many many purebloods and even more halfbloods but not a single muggleborn. And they were also notoriously sexist as well. Italian muggleborns who wanted a mastery had long took to just going to France and getting them there instead.

With that in mind, Caesarion had prepared her for this carefully. He had spent years teaching her to come across as a proper pureblood lady, knowing it would get her more favour than appearing an interloper, which was how muggleborns were viewed in Italy. He'd also made sure her name was beside his on a number of groundbreaking scholarly papers he'd published during her apprenticeship, especially after he'd promoted her to journeyman*. This had resulted in her having already built up a stellar reputation in the field.

Three incredibly elderly men in traditional scholarly robes, which made them look straight out of the Tudor period, sat across a desk, each with a pile of parchment which she knew was a copy of her thesis.

"So Miss Granger..." One started, his voice surprisingly strong through a thick Napolese accent. Hermione took a breath and smiled slightly at the man, ready to answer all questions about her.

Hours later, and they were done. Before the three masters went off to debate, one of them looked pointedly at the ring on her third finger.

"You are betrothed to your master?" He asked pointedly and Hermione schooled her face, knowing the question would turn up.

"Yes, Lucius Malfoy who is head of the family recently wrote out a contact which suited us both to agree to. We however agreed that it would not be proper for us to go beyond that step until after I ceased to be Caesarion's student." The old man nodded.

"And you do not feel that your academic studies would get in the way of your marriage and having children." She smiled and carefully suppressed her annoyance at the rather sexist question.

"Not as long as the children don't mind being dragged round historical sites a lot." That earned a chuckle from the men, who then departed to discuss her defence.

It surprisingly enough did not take long for the men to return with their decision and they found Hermione curled in Caesarion's arms, not having excepted to get an answer so soon. They moved to jump apart but one of the masters waved his hand and made a sort of 'pish' sound at them so they settled for standing there with Caesarion's arm round her waist.

"I have to say Miss Granger, I am impressed. We've been waiting for a muggleborn with the sheer brilliance and balls to come before us for some time. You have both and we are most delighted to grant you the status of Master. We just have one request of you." Hermione, still too shocked to react, nodded and looked enquiringly at them. "In another generation, send us a small regiment of gifted scholars. We're rather hoping for a dynasty."

Both she and Caesarion went bright red as the other masters burst out laughing, and the one who seemed to have been elected spokesman was grinning at them wickedly, eyes sparkling in a way that reminded Hermione of her late grandfather when he'd been up to something.

"Also if your firstborn is born in exactly nine months, we promise not to comment at all." If they could have gone any more pink, she and Caesarion would have, even as the three ancient masters carried on laughing, clearly finding it far too amusing.

The graduation ceremony was in late July and Hermione thanked the entire pantheon of Roman Gods for cooling charms. The Convivium of Italian Scholars held two Mastery Graduation ceremonies a year and they moved round cities in Italy on a strict and very old rota. Hers was in San Gimignano, a Tuscan city know for its high towers. Caesarion had booked a lovely hotel within the city limits and they had spent a few days before her ceremony doing touristy things round Tuscany, visiting the parts that they had missed on previous trips due to not being of classical historical significance. Being relatively northern, it wasn't as too warm as it could be but all the same only magic made her scholarly velvet robes comfortable.

Lucius, Harry and Maria were her guests, the latter two having been married all of a year after the order of Merlin ball and were happily popping out sprogs to torment Hogwarts with in the future. Caesarion had greeted the three fondly before moving to take his own spot amongst his fellow scholar, who each took the time to congratulate him on his student's graduation as was of course proper. It had to be noted that most of them also managed to get in at least one comment about the fact that the beautiful young woman was also his betrothed, a subject of a certain amount of envy amongst many of the scholars, and humour amongst those too old to be interested in her themselves.

The Mastery Ceremony was far more solemn than that Order of Merlin one had been, weighed down by thousands of years of continuous tradition which, unlike in much of Europe, had not been interrupted by political upheaval. The bright sunlight in the formal courtyard it was being held in shone down on rows of dark robed scholars and their more brightly dressed guests even as the most senior scholar (by age and length of time as a master) stood on a stage, accepting the line of young newly minted masters before handing them the symbols of their mastery.

There were also the near ubiquitous reporters that had been a fact of life for Hermione and Harry since the war, mostly there to record the historical moment that the girl still often called the brains of the golden trio became the first muggleborn in over a century to earn and be granted a Mastery in Italy, and the first ever female muggle born at that.

The long formal velvet robes and silly hat she wore swept around her as she accepted the diploma and sword** that were a traditional part of becoming a Master before joining her fellow new masters, Caesarion meeting her as she stepped down from the stage and taking her to sit beside him amongst the Convivium of Scholars.

After the ceremony there was a drinks reception where Hermione was very much the star graduate and then finally they were free for the meal Caesarion had booked to celebrate with friends her historic success. Now out of her heavy robes, Hermione relaxed and enjoyed the company of her small group of close friends, and looked forward for what was set to be her dream life.

In the months between her Viva and graduation Lucius had been busy doing something which required him to regularly visit England, although neither Hermione nor Caesarion had any idea what. Shortly after her graduation he asked them to come with him to a press conference he was holding in the ministry atrium.

When they got there, Hermione was surprised to see the size of the crowd of reporters there. The disgraced pureblood Lord was no longer was big news in Britain so she wondered what exactly he was up to that drew so many reporters, as well as random other people, and apparently the Minister of Magic.

While Lucius had recovered from the war, the griefs that had befallen him since had given him a permanently aged and haggard look completely unlike the look of the arrogant lord prior to the war. It made an odd contrast seeing him standing there, dressed as impeccably as always, looking sadly out at his audience.

Hermione and Caesarion took their seat to the side of the podium, faces blank of the confusion they felt. Once everyone was in place, the Malfoy lord began to speak in tones that showed he had lost none of his touch.

"I know many wonder why I am standing here today. To answer I am tired and feel that a major change needs to come to my family in a way that will affect the wizarding community of Great Britain. I today formally announce that I am standing down as patriarch of the Malfoy family." He paused as a loud gasp went up along with various exclamations of shock which quickly silenced as people waited for the rest of his speech with a deep sense of anticipation. "I have no direct heir and no desire to produce one after the loss of my son and so I fail in my first duty as Patriach. In view of this I have arranged with the ministry for instead my title and duties to be passed to my cousin, Caesarion Fitz-Malfoi, my closest currently living relative and my grandfather's illegitimate grandson. To do this I have performed rituals of magic to legitimise him before abdicating my rank to him." Hermione was gaping at him and a glance to the side showed that Caesarion was also, clearly having not been warned of this beforehand.

Lucius turned to them with a wry smile and indicated that they should stand beside him.

"I must apologise to my cousin, I did not warn him of this decision beforehand as I knew he would try turn it down. He is much more suited to the role than I as he does not seek to increase power but to earn respect through hard work and care for all those that are his responsibility. He is also betrothed to a witch who will bring nothing but honour to our family and restore it to what it was before my father and I, through our follies and misplaced views, dragged the name through the mud. As such I would also like to announce that I am very proud that Hermione Granger a witch who, but through birth, should have been one of the great Ladies of British Wizarding society has agreed to marry my extremely lucky cousin and can now take the place she deserves within wizarding society as a great scholar as well as great lady."

There was stunned silence as Lucius took the ring that marked his as the family patriarch off his finger and presented it to Caesarion, who still had one arm round his fiancée's waist.

Then the crowd went wild as the shock announcement sunk in.

Caesarion and Hermione's wedding was stupendous.

It was in Malfoy manor, which had been wholesale gutted and redecorated by Maria, once she had been done with Grimmauld Place and bore little resemblance to the horrible place Hermione had been tortured.

It was there because all of British high society and quite a bit of the rest wanted to see the new Malfoy lord, a halfblood bastard, marry the most famous muggleborn of her generation. Their romance had been a subject of fascination since that first ball, all the arch romantics loving the pairing. Their reticence and refusal to play it up had somehow made the mania worse, and Lucius abdicating had just been the icing on the cake for many.

The ceremony was held in the grounds, in the beautifully architect gardens which had been based on the quirky public gardens of Taormina on Sicily, and so Hermione proceeded down the grand steps towards her gorgeous Italian groom in a dress that was a work of art of neo-classical tailoring wearing an ancient jewellery and looking like an empress to be, going to meet her Emperor.

The ceremony was a blur, the only focused bit for her was Caesarion's face and the soft, adoring smile on his face.

The party after was little clearer, although she did at least remember the discovery that Italian scholars (she'd invited her viva examiners, having come to rather like the mischievous old codgers in the mean time) knew how to be the life and soul of a party, shocking the life out of many a pureblood matron. The sight of one of them leading Professor McGonagall in a lively dance across the dance floor was one no amount of marital bliss couldn't prevent her from noticing and watching in pure surprise.

It was to that sight Caesarion pulled her away gently to their bedroom, taking advantage of the distraction to get started on producing another generation of magical genii.

Fin

*Quick note, traditionally the apprenticeship system had three stages, not the two usually used in the modern world, and since both the wizarding world and particularly the Italian one as I've wrote it are hugely conservative I thought going for the old version was more appropriate. Journeyman is a stage up from apprentice, comes with better pay (apprentices basically got bed, board and pocket money in return for menial work and education), and more recognition for their contribution. If you want you can look up the details fairly easily as its still part of the guild systems that survive mostly in the City of London and, I believe, some Germanic countries.

** Stole this from various academic institutions, including the Academie de France. Apparently various places give a sword, either as a symbol that the pen is mighter than the sword, or to defend truth with. Either way I thought it was cool so there.


End file.
